“A shot aimed is a shot lost. Aim with your eyes shut.”
This goes beyond anything any professional sports person will tell you – you've always got to keep your eye on the ball/goal/prize. Work hard, achieve, put the effort in and you will get the rewards, and you will deserve them. But how much sweeter is life when you risk it all and the risk pays off? If you live within the boundaries and follow the guidelines all the time, will you have missed some of the magic? How about all those times when the outside chance comes in? Sometimes life calls for a little bit of blind faith.
I am not condoning giving up trying at all but maybe once in a while we should all close our eyes and see where life takes us.
When you are chatting with i tuoi amici (your friends), you don’t ask “Dov’è il bagno per favore?” You talk about “la vita quotidiana” (everyday life).
Non è facile (it’s not easy) chiaccherare (to chat) quando si impara una lingua (when you’re learning a language) perchè (because) hai difficoltà di capire (you have difficulty in understanding). Però (however) sounding confident, pronunciation and making the effort to communicate is half the battle.
In ogni paese (in every country), tutta la gente (everyone) secondo me (according to me) sia contenta che hai almeno provato (is happy that at least you tried).
Allora fate gli sbagli (so make mistakes), ridere (laugh) e divertitevi (enjoy yourselves).
This was a piece that I wrote after a gig – it struck me that musicians have a special relationship with their instruments.
He held her in a loving embrace. She was taller than him by a good few inches and leant back into his shoulder nestling into his neck. They curled elegantly around each other. He tweaked and played with her, stroked her neck, slapped her side. The crowd were transfixed. They felt like they had stumbled upon an intimate moment. The rest of the band was oblivious – they each had their own love affairs going on. The beat picked up and the slapping continued. The audience roared its approval.
Double bass (Photo credit: jDyhre)
As the set carried on the music rocked and rolled and rocked again to keep the audience on the edge of their seats. The boy leant in close to his double bass in the slow numbers and murmured into her neck and flung her out with a spin when the beat quickened.The finale saw a majestic pirouette then as quickly as the boy had been to stroke and caress his bass, he let her go and lay her down on the sticky pub floor. The boy’s girlfriend came up to help clear up. She held the double bass’s cover up to throw over its’ head. The boy took it from her hands, kissed his girl on the cheek and said, “I’ll do that,” and lovingly tucked his bass away. His girl stepped aside and just stared at them. Her eyes gleamed in the stage lights. As the boy zipped up the bass’s case his girlfriend glared. She felt jealousy bubbling up inside her.The boy put his arms around her and whispered in her ear. “Thanks for coming tonight.” She smiled and declenched a fraction – there were some things she could do which his double bass couldn’t. Her smile froze. He let go of her and picked up his bass to carry in both arms. She frowned again. The three of them left together.